


prefects and prats

by Frogster



Series: I Hate You [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Butterbeer, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Harry Potter Next Generation, Jealous!Scorpius, Obliviousness thy name is Rose Weasley, Snarky!Rose, Sweet and Sour Scorpius, Three Broomsticks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frogster/pseuds/Frogster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Malfoy, will you just cut to the chase and say what you came to say so I can enjoy Hogsmeade in peace?" "I told you," he answered. "I'm here in place of Al and Hugo to gather intelligence on your date." "Which, translated, means you're just being a nosy git." In which Rose has a date to Hogsmeade and Scorpius can't help but interfere. RoseScorpius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	prefects and prats

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to BeanerWeasley and sirenofodysseus for being my ever faithful betas.

Rose was much happier than the bitter temperatures would seem to warrant. She had finished buying Christmas presents for her friends and family and was now sitting in the Three Broomsticks, getting ready to enjoy a Butterbeer with her Hogsmeade date, Nicholas Corner.

While the two hadn’t met before the beginning of this year, when they had been assigned each other as patrol partners, they had quickly become friends. Rose had been surprised but pleased when Nicholas had asked her to be his girlfriend and to go with him to Hogsmeade. She enjoyed spending time with him, talking about schoolwork, their favorite bands (both wizard and Muggle), and laughing at her family’s antics. Refreshingly, the sixth-year Ravenclaw wasn’t obsessed with Quidditch, unlike most of her large family, which was a welcome respite for Rose. He was the perfect patrol partner and a good friend, and Rose had happily said yes to both questions.

If she had lucked out with Nicholas as a patrol partner, she was convinced she was atoning for past wrongs with her school’s choice for her second patrol partner—Scorpius Malfoy, Al’s best friend and the bane of Rose’s existence.

Scorpius and Rose had always bickered and fought, ever since their first train ride when Scorpius had insulted Rose’s favorite Quidditch team. An eleven-year-old Rose had perceived the remark as a slight on her adored father, and by extension the rest of her family, and so one of the greatest rivalries in the history of Hogwarts had begun.

Scorpius teased Rose mercilessly, knowing just which buttons to push. The two fifth-years could get along, but the instances were few and far between, and usually involved glares and entreaties from Al, who was often stuck in the middle of his best friend and favorite cousin.

A trip to Hogsmeade with a good friend who was interested in taking their friendship to the next level—which Rose didn’t mind in the least—was therefore a perfect way to spend a day outside the Hogwarts walls with a slim chance of running afoul of Scorpius Malfoy.

 

* * *

 

 

Rose and Nicholas had chatted most of the way into Hogsmeade and had kept up a steady stream of conversation during their visits to Hogsmeade’s many shops. They had been so caught up in discussing Rose’s O.W.L.s that they had forgotten to order Butterbeer for at least ten minutes after arriving at the Three Broomsticks. Nicholas had then graciously offered to wait in the growing line to order—Madam Rosmerta was out sick and the rest of the staff was having trouble keeping up with all the orders. Rose knew that it would take a while for Nicholas to get their drinks and so she settled in to watch the other customers, keeping an eye out for any of her cousins or friends.

She found the enemy instead, sitting near the back of the establishment, his arm thrown around one of the most vapid students Hogwarts had ever seen. Caroline Nott was the type of girl Rose detested—no substance, all surface. She was currently whispering in Scorpius’ ear, one hand trailing up his arm. Rose snurled her nose; Caroline must be stupider than Rose thought if she was cozying up to Scorpius in such a manner. Who would ever fall for the biggest prat in Hogwarts?

Scorpius didn’t even seem to be paying much attention to the girl, which was confirmed when Scorpius caught Rose’s eye just as the latter was about to turn away. Scorpius smirked and winked at her, immediately throwing Rose into a tailspin.

The nerve of that git! Winking at her when he was on a date with someone else! Determined, however, to not let Scorpius’ presence ruin her perfect outing, Rose dramatically turned away, red hair flying. She deliberately avoided looking at that area of the tavern and groaned when she saw how long the line for Butterbeer had gotten. She was obviously going to be waiting a while, especially since Nicholas had just let a group of third-years go before him.

Normally, Rose would have been touched at her date’s sweet gesture, but right then she just wanted her Butterbeer and a distraction so she wouldn’t have to sit in dread wondering if Scorpius would dare start something in the middle of a public place.

(She wouldn’t put it past him—especially since he had looked quite bored with his date, which was rare. He usually had been too busy the past year or so with a date to pester her on Hogsmeade visits, and she had enjoyed the reprieve.)

Apparently, the reprieve had ended. Rose heard someone walk up behind her and a deep voice drawled, “Well, Weasley, aren’t you going to say hello to your patrol partner?”

Rose turned around and looked up into the smug face of Scorpius Malfoy.

“I already did,” she answered sweetly, attempting to cover up her annoyance. “I said hello to Nicholas when we met this morning to come here on our date.” She emphasized the word date, hoping he’d get the hint that she wasn’t here by herself. He’d teased her all year about her lack of Hogsmeade dates this year. She wanted to show him that she could, in fact, get one. Scorpius simply scrunched up his nose in disgust, much like she had minutes earlier. “I meant your handsome patrol partner,” he said.

“I told you, I already did.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to the punch. “What are you doing here, Malfoy?”

“Well, the Three Broomsticks is the best place to get Butterbeer,” he responded, dancing around the intent of her question. “Do you not think I have the right to be here?” he asked, leaning down and placing his hands on the table so he could stare her down.

“Oh, you have the right to be in this establishment,” she answered breezily. Scorpius raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised at her acquiescence. Rose continued, a smirk growing on her face. “But I also have the right to spend the day without your insufferable presence.”

“Touché, Weasley,” Scorpius said, dropping into the empty seat across from her.

“Hey! That seat’s for my date! Leave!”

Scorpius simply leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out underneath the table, the toes of his shoes catching on the rung of her chair. He waved nonchalantly in the direction of the line. “He’ll be a while, and you looked like you needed some company.”

Rose snorted. “You have company of your own to entertain. Where’s your date? Get tired of hissing in your ear?”

Scorpius avoided Rose’s obvious dig about Slytherin house. While she didn’t have a vendetta against all Slytherins—Al was one himself—Caroline Nott embodied the stereotypical Slytherin qualities. “She said something about needing to freshen up and reapply makeup? I don’t know why,” he muttered. “She looks like she uses an entire line of cosmetics every day.” Rose snorted at his accurate description of his date. Her makeup was always caked on two inches thick, making Rose wonder what she was hiding underneath. Snake scales, probably. A corner of Scorpius’ mouth twitched at Rose’s amusement. “So she’ll be a while, and you, at least, are always good for entertainment.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “What are you really doing here, Malfoy? And don’t give me any of that evasive crap.”

Scorpius sighed, crossing his cashmere-clad arms across his chest. “You know how Al and your brother always like to check into any bloke who shows even the slightest bit of interest in you?”

“Yes,” Rose said warily, looking at him askance.

“Well, since you’ve managed to snag yourself a date, and since Al and Hugo aren’t here, I thought I, out of the goodness of my heart, would serve as proxy.”

“What heart?” quipped Rose.

“Ouch, Weasley, you wound me,” Scorpius answered, dramatically pounding his chest with his fist.

Rose rolled her eyes—again. It had become quite a habit around him over their years at Hogwarts.

“Careful, Weasley,” Scorpius drawled. “If you keep that up, your eyes will roll right out of your head.”

“At least then I wouldn’t have to look at you,” Rose immediately retorted.

As usual, Scorpius was ready with a verbal parry. “Have to look at me? Weasley, you don’t have to look at me—although I can understand why you do,” he said, nearly preening and waggling his eyebrows.

Rose groaned. The line for drinks seemed to getting slower and slower—no relief in sight. “Malfoy, will you just cut to the chase and say what you came to say so I can enjoy Hogsmeade in peace?”

“I told you,” he answered. “I’m here in place of Al and Hugo to gather intelligence on your date.”

“Which, translated, means you’re just being a nosy git.”

“Potato, potahto,” Scorpius said dismissedly.

“Why do you care, anyway? Is this just another plot to make me miserable?”

Scorpius shook his head. “It’s a matter of school interest. When you’re not happy, nobody’s happy—least of all your cousins. And no one wants to unleash the wrath of the collective Weasley-Potters on Hogwarts.”

At face value, Scorpius’ reasoning made some sense. The Weasley-Potter clan was tightly knit and all looked after each other. Rose would expect any boy who was interested in Lily or Roxanne or even the older girls to get the same treatment from the male Weasley-Potters.

But that didn’t explain Scorpius’ involvement.

“If you’re trying to look out for my happiness, you sure are going about it in an odd way. You’re just making me irritated.”

Scorpius sat up and leaned in slightly. “Look, if you knew what the three of us know about some of the guys who have shown an interest in you in the past, you would realize we were doing you a favor.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “We? The three of us? You’re including yourself with Al and Hugo?”

The tips of Scorpius’ ears pinkened slightly—obviously he hadn’t meant to let slip that piece of information. In true Malfoy fashion, however, he recovered quickly. “Surely you had to have at least suspected that I was somehow involved.” His mouth set in a grim line. “You are always telling me how I live to make your life miserable.”

“I didn’t,” Rose answered curtly. “But I should have—it’s just the kind of thing you’d do.”

She thought for a moment. “That still doesn’t explain why you’d align yourself with Al and Hugo when it comes to hounding my potential boyfriends,” Rose mused. Something made her think that just attempting to annoy her wasn’t Scorpius’ only motivation. “You’re not a member of my family—so why should you care? And don’t give me that rigmarole about student happiness, because I’m not buying it.”

Scorpius looked thoughtful for a few moments, as if he was searching for the best way to put his thoughts into words. Finally he said, “Let’s just say that I have a vested interest in the outcome of your potential relationships.”

Rose was trying to search for a reply to Scorpius’ enigmatic statement when he continued. “But we’re not here to talk about me, we’re here to talk about you and lover boy over there.”

Rose snorted. “Never thought I’d hear you say you didn’t want to talk about yourself.”

Suddenly there was a commotion at the bar. Rose turned around to see that the taps were spurting out all kinds of wildly colored liquid—no Butterbeer or even firewhisky in sight. Great, Rose thought. One more thing to mess up my date.

With that thought, she spun around, curls flying as she glared at Scorpius. “It wasn’t me, I swear,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “Probably James and Fred—they’ve been scheming all week. But that just gives me more time to gather intelligence.”

Rose sighed. “You’re not going to leave until I answer your questions, are you, Malfoy?”

He grinned smugly. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Rosie.”

(Rose got the feeling that he was talking about more than just the afternoon.)

Rose huffed, resigned. “Fine,” she half spat. Scorpius’ smug grin grew bigger. “Might as well get this over with—the sooner I do, the sooner you leave and the sooner I can get back to my date.”

Before Scorpius could launch a barrage of questions, Rose continued. “But before you try to ferret out all the details—” Scorpius’ grin faltered a bit at Rose’s use of the word ferret—“Tell me what you’ve uncovered already. That way I can correct your preconceived notions right away.”

Scorpius tapped long fingers against his pointed chin. “Let’s see. Nicholas Corner. Sixth-year Ravenclaw. Prefect. Gets good marks, I’m told, but not quite as good as you or me. Hates Quidditch—that’s a mark against him right there. Has objectionable taste in women…”

Rose snorted at Scorpius’ last comment.

“What?” he asked.

“Objectionable taste in women, Malfoy? That describes you, not Nicholas.”

“It’s not my fault that all the girls can’t get enough of this,” he drawled, one hand motioning towards himself.

She raised an eyebrow. “Not all the girls,” she said pointedly, indicating herself.

His eyes gleamed, a sure sign that the Slytherin was up to no good. “Oh, I wasn’t including you in that statement. The jury’s still out on what exactly you are—although I’m leaning towards a changeling or a shapeshifting dragon.” Rose’s eyes narrowed—just because she’d inherited the Weasley temper (and Granger stubbornness) didn’t mean he could compare her to a dragon when her temper threatened to boil over.

Scorpius continued, leaning in a bit and locking his eyes with Rose’s. “But whatever you are,” he said in a softer tone, “all I have to say is, you’re one of a kind, Rosie.”

Rose had no idea what to say to that. Only Scorpius could compare her to a dragon in one breath and then compliment her individuality in the next. For some reason she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his gray ones—they reminded her of quicksilver, swirling liquid boring into her.

Quicksilver is poison, she thought and broke away from his gaze.

They had only locked gazes for a few seconds, but that was long enough for an embarrassed Rose.

Wanting to get back into familiar territory, Rose shot a retort back at him. “If that’s all you have to say, does that mean you’re going to shut up now?”

His eyes widened. “Not a chance, Weasley. You still haven’t answered any of my questions.”

“You haven’t asked any,” she huffed, crossing her arms in a defensive stance.

“Well then, allow me to oblige. Have my observations about your date been correct so far?”

“Except for the last one, yes,” she grudgingly admitted. “But you sounded like you were reading a stat list for a Quidditch player. You could gather information like that on anyone in Hogwarts—that doesn’t mean you know the person,” she pointed out, wanting to maintain some semblance of an upper hand.

“Then why don’t you fill me in, oh knowledgeable one?” Scorpius smirked again.

The commotion behind her told her that the taps still weren’t fixed. Curse James and Fred—and Scorpius too. “Nicholas is nice and kind. He values schoolwork. We have nearly the same taste in music—he knows some really great bands. He’s funny—”

“Funny looking,” Scorpius muttered.

Rose ignored him. “He’s considerate. He doesn’t bait me just to start an argument. He actually cares, unlike some people.”

Scorpius immediately caught her implication and his eyes narrowed. “Say what you want about me, Rosie—”

“I frequently do,” quipped Rose.

“—but don’t say I don’t care. Remember in third year when you fell of your broom during the Gryffindor-Slytherin match and broke your leg? I came to see you in the hospital wing, didn’t I?”

“I was always under the impression that you came to gloat that you’d won,” Rose grumbled.

“It may have started out that way,” he admitted, looking sheepish. “But after I got to the hospital wing and forced my way through your family, it was apparent that you weren’t going to be up for any verbal sparring, and I like for my opponents to be on top of their game. It’s no fun to tease you if you’re not able to react with your quick weasel wit.”

“It has to be quick to keep up with you, ferret face,” Rose grumbled.

Scorpius grinned, not even fazed by the ferret comment this time “See, that’s what I mean.” His grin faded as he realized that she’d gotten them off topic again. “You’re very distracting, Rosie. Let’s get back to the topic at hand.”

“And yet you allow yourself to be distracted,” Rose replied before huffing again. “Fine. I suppose you cared once. That doesn’t absolve you of guilt for all the other things you’ve done to me over the years.”

“Then I’ll just have to try harder,” Scorpius said. “And of course I care. That’s why I’m helping you. Weasley, did you even hear yourself talking about lover boy? You sounded like you were talking about one of your cousins, not your boyfriend. No passion.”

Rose opened her mouth to retort—what did he know about passion?—but Scorpius trudged on. “I get that he’s your friend, and I respect that.” He ignored Rose’s snort of protest. “Honestly, I envy your ability to make friends so easily. But you would think that you would show more care towards Mr. Prefect than you do Al.”

Rose glared at him—she was sick of his presumptuousness. “Nicholas only asked me to be his girlfriend nearly three weeks ago. Do I like him? Yes! Do I want to see where this may go? Yes! Am I head over heels for him? No! I could be in the future, but not now. Just because your past relationships have hit their high point at the two-week mark and fizzled out soon after doesn’t mean that mine will.”

Scorpius leaned towards her again, staring her down. “You make me sound like I’m a serial dater. You know very well that I have only gone with three girls—and one of those didn’t last beyond one Hogsmeade outing. Not to mention, you have never liked any of the girls who have ever shown an interest in me.” He smirked, thinking he’d trapped her.

Rose was unperturbed, however. “That’s because all of those girls have empty cauldrons for brains. Nicholas is a wonderful friend and person. That’s different.”

“I’ve no doubt that he’s a good guy,” Scorpius conceded. “You wouldn’t have befriended him if he wasn’t. I just don’t think that he’s the right kind of guy for you. Neither do Al and Hugo,” he tacked on as an afterthought.

This just fueled Rose’s ire. “Oh really? And what would you know about the kind of guy who would be right for me?”

He looked at her askance, intensity rising in his eyes. “More than you think,” he said quietly.

“Oh, really? Do enlighten me,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He looked uncomfortable for a moment, then composed himself and answered. “You need a guy who isn’t just kind and caring. You need someone who can challenge you, who sees the best in you even when you’re flinging hexes at people, who won’t walk on eggshells around you, who can handle your caustic comments and even return them. You need someone who respects your intelligence, your drive, your loyalty. You need someone who can successfully navigate their way through one of your family gatherings without running afoul of one of our many relatives.” She couldn’t help but crack a grin at that last comment—her family could be very intimidating. He smiled back slightly then finished his assessment in an even softer voice. “You shouldn’t have to settle for anything less.”

Rose was taken aback by Scorpius’ statement. He’d obviously put a lot of thought into this small speech, and she found herself at a loss for words. This was a different side to Scorpius.

She was still debating on how to respond—provided she could think of something—when Nicholas returned, carrying two Butterbeers.

Rose jumped up and turned to face her date. “Nicholas!” she exclaimed, grinning and grabbing one of the mugs of Butterbeer, draining half of it immediately. She needed something to brace her after trading barbs with Scorpius—and, most likely, for whatever transpired next now that Nicholas had appeared.

Lowering the mug, Rose saw that the two young men were eying each other. “Malfoy,” Nicholas said, tone slightly questioning.

Rose flipped around to give Scorpius a glare that would rival McGonagall’s. “Was just leaving,” she sneered.

Scorpius wasn’t fazed. “Hey now, Medusa,” he quipped. “Don’t get your snakes in a twist.”

“Trust me, if I was Medusa, you would have been turned to stone years ago,” Rose retorted.

Scorpius, for once, didn’t take the bait. He turned to Nicholas, folding his hands on the table in front of him. Rose thought he looked like he was preparing for an interrogation.

“So, Corner, your Ravenclaw good sense fail you, or is there another reason you wanted to take Rosie out?”

Rose didn’t miss Scorpius’ use of her nickname. Usually he just called her that to rile her up—very few people were allowed to call her by her childhood nickname. Using it now in front of Nicholas implied a certain intimacy that rankled her. It wasn’t like she called him Scorp, after all.

Nicholas, in the meantime, answered that Rose was a great girl and a good friend, and that should be enough.

Scorpius trudged on, not satisfied. “Well, if you’re planning on sticking around a while, there’s some things I should warn you about when it comes to Rose.” Scorpius cleared his throat, dramatically preparing for a long list of complaints against Rose. “To begin with, Rose has an unhealthy love of sugar quills. I think she’d eat her weight in them if she could—yet they don’t seem to have made her any sweeter.”

“I’m naturally a nice person, but dealing with you would make even the sweetest-tempered person want to react violently,” Rose griped.

“That’s not all, though. Her cat’s an absolute menace, she has the temper of a dragon, she loves cheesy pop music and, even worse, singing and dancing to said music. Plus her favorite Quidditch team is the Chudley Cannons! I know you love your dad, Weasley, but have some respect for the game and yourself, for Merlin’s sake.” While this last was directed at Rose, who had kept quiet during Scorpius’ rant because she wanted to know what Nicholas’ reaction would be, Scorpius’ next words were solely for Nicholas.

“Finally, Corner, I know you’re aware of who Rose’s family is, but have you considered the implications? Not only does she have a Quidditch team’s worth of cousins, her uncle is Harry Potter, her mother is brilliant and is pegged to become the next Minister of Magic, her father’s a respected Auror, another uncle is a master prankster, and most of the rest of her family fought in the wizarding war! You better think long and hard about starting something with Rose, because if you mess things up, you’ll have a whole Weasley-Potter army coming after you. Do you really want that?” As he spoke, Scorpius’ voice grew lower and more threatening. He stood up, silently challenging Rose’s date. Scorpius had adopted the Malfoy air of command—solemn, stern, and intensely serious, no amusement in his usually laughing eyes.

Nicholas then proved why he hadn’t been placed in Gryffindor. Turning to Rose, he stuttered, “Look, Rose, I’ve had a lot of fun today. You’re a great person and I like spending time with you, but maybe we should just be friends?” With a sheepish smile at Rose, Nicholas quickly left, not even allowing Rose time to answer.

Shocked, hurt, and livid, Rose spun around to face Scorpius, eyes blazing. “Scorpius Malfoy, you are the world’s biggest prat!” she yelled. She was no longer concerned about making a scene; she was channeling all of her energy into not charming every single blond hair off of his head.

“You deliberately made me look like a fool in front of Nicholas and then you just had to drag my family into it! How dare you use them to make threats! You had no business telling Nicholas all of that. It’s not like I’ve ever told any of your fangirls how you turn red as a lobster if you forget to cast sun protectant spells on yourself, how you secretly love Muggle mystery novels and usually have one with you, even at school, how you didn’t know how to swim until the summer after second year and my cousins had to teach you, how you get irritated if your broom’s bristles are even the slightest bit out of place, and how you actually prefer coffee to tea and have a ridiculous set of specifications for you to even consider drinking tea? All that sugar hasn’t helped your disposition, either.” Rose yelled, fuming.

“Well, now you don’t have to tell them, since you screamed it at the whole tavern!” Scorpius responded icily.

Rose lowered her tone but not her ire. “Honestly, Malfoy, would it kill you to just leave me alone and refrain from interfering with my life?”

“Yes,” Scorpius answered automatically, looking just as surprised at his response as she was. He quickly recovered, saying, “Honestly, Rose, if he wasn’t willing to stick around after hearing about your idiosyncrasies and me invoking your family’s fame and influence, then he didn’t deserve you.”

“How in blazes are you, of all people, supposed to know what I deserve? You constantly make fun of me, heckle me, and bait me, and yet you have the gall to tell me what I do or do not deserve? Let me tell you what I deserve, Malfoy. I deserve to enjoy a date or even just some Butterbeer with a friend without you barreling in and making a wreck of everything. I deserve to have my decisions respected. Even Al and Hugo have never made as much fuss as you have today, and this was just one date!” Here Rose stepped towards him, speaking softly so only he could hear. “If you care as much as you say you do, Scorpius, you need to learn when you’ve gone too far.”

He looked at her, hurt etched on his features. She wondered if she’d finally gotten through to him—if he finally was sorry—but then, in true Scorpius fashion, he had to ruin everything by opening his mouth.

“So I guess you joining me for a Butterbeer is out of the question then?”

Something snapped inside Rose—probably her sanity—and she growled, grabbing the Butterbeer Nicholas had abandoned as well as her own partially full mug and flinging the contents on Scorpius, aiming most of the sticky liquid at his perfectly coiffed hair. He spluttered and blinked, taken aback.

“I hate you, Scorpius Malfoy,” she sneered, blue eyes snapping. Then she retrieved her bags and marched out the door, not caring that every eye in the tavern was trained on her.

(If Rose had stuck around, she might have heard Scorpius mutter “She called me Scorpius,” and seen him smile slightly before charming the Three Broomsticks staff into finding him some towels to tend to his messy hair and clothes.)

 

* * *

 

As for Nicholas, he apologized to Rose the next day and reiterated his desire to remain friends. Rose, who had calmed down considerably by this point, agreed. She enjoyed being friends with Nicholas and, while she wouldn’t admit it to Scorpius, found that she and Nicholas were definitely meant to stay just friends.

When Nicholas told Rose after the Christmas holidays that he wanted to ask out her cousin Molly, who was also a sixth-year Ravenclaw, Rose wished him luck. The Weasley-Potters were largely supportive of Nicholas and Molly, although James and Louis kept a close eye on the Ravenclaw prefect.

Rose wondered if Scorpius would throw his lot in with James and Louis and hassle Nicholas again, since he’d already hassled him over one Weasley girl. While Scorpius was on pretty good terms with the Weasley-Potter clan as a whole, he wasn’t close with the majority of Rose’s cousins, and so he didn’t get involved this time.

Apparently there was only one Weasley girl that Scorpius the prat would heckle anyone over, and that was Rose herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment. :)
> 
> This piece is an outtake of sorts to a longer story I'm writing called "I Hate You." If you enjoyed this story, keep an eye out for it!


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